


Right or Not

by violet_hour



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom!Harry, First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M, Top!Niall, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1853398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_hour/pseuds/violet_hour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title taken from States 'Room to Run'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right or Not

This really shouldn’t be that surprising, Niall thinks. Ridiculous and ironic, yes. But not surprising. Then again, optimism usually has a way of screwing him over at the bloody worst of times. He flicks open the hotel curtains. The pitter-patter drops of rain have turned themselves into something more like a tsunami, and now’s about the time Niall thinks he finally understands the phrase ‘it’s raining cats and dogs’. Truly, he won’t be surprised if it starts raining submarines, that’s how bad it is. Pursing his lips into a pout, he shuts the curtains once more but makes no move to go back to the only mind-numbing TV show that’s on, even though the commercials have been over for five minutes now.

Harry is sprawled out on the bed, flipping idly through some magazine Louis’d swiped from a table down in the lobby. When Niall moves to push the drapes apart again almost automatically, Harry says, “Do you think if you open those enough times, it’ll magically stop raining?” Niall can hear the humor in his voice too. Like the fact that their potentially perfect day isn’t completely ruined.

He shrugs, not ready to abandon his pouting just yet. It helps, just a little. “I don’t know,” he says stubbornly. “Maybe…”

Harry lifts his shoulders lazily, pulling his knees to his chest. But he’s so long and gangly, the position makes him appear somehow even more gawky. He brings the month-old tabloid closer to his face, and Niall watches him for a moment. There’s a flash of lightning somewhere behind Niall’s back, but it’s only when it’s followed a moment later by the bang of thunder that he catches Harry jump. It’s a small jump, and if Niall had blinked he’s sure he would have missed it. Harry shakes his head to recover, his eyes flickering about curiously, and Niall realizes he hasn’t moved from the spot on his page the whole time Niall’s been watching.

“There’s nothing to do,” Niall whines yet again. And he hates whining, he really does, but honestly. He’s bored out of his mind. He’s sure Harry probably stopped listening to him some forty complaints ago. So Niall decides to quickly un-mute the TV, hoping to drown out whatever customary and equally unhelpful response Harry is sure to fire back.

“It’s just a little rain, Niall,” Harry says, and Niall thinks ‘ _who called it?_ ’ “Not the end of the world.”

With the same over-enthusiastic hand gestures he’s been using for the past hour, Niall points back out the window, outlining the frame in an obvious square to try and help focus Harry on the problem he can’t seem to grasp, if he’s still attempting to pass this off as ‘a little rain’. Actually, it’s pretty clear that if the rain doesn’t let up soon, it probably will be the end of the world because the whole planet will surely drown. Good, Niall thinks stubbornly. Then at least this day will be over faster.

Trying to sigh off his growing aggravation, Niall flicks off the TV and tosses the remote aside before glancing suspiciously at Harry. How is he not bored out of his mind also?

“How can you say that?” Niall falls back against the pillows, his fingers grazing Harry’s leg. “This is our first day off in weeks, and I was planning on spending it out on the golf course. Getting back into the swing of things.” Despite his mood, he still can’t help but to crack a smile at that. “Ha-ha, get it? The ‘swing of things?’” He lets out a cackling laugh at his own stupid pun, but Harry just offers up a half-amused smile before going back to his magazine. Glancing back out the dreary window, Niall watches the rain stream down the glass. If he tried to go out in that, all he’d end up ‘swinging’ was from one of those rescue helicopter’s ladders as it pulled him up from the impending monsoon and to higher ground.

Feeling bored and grumpy, Niall crosses his arms and shifts around restlessly, hoping to spread some of his impatience to a much-too-passive-for-a-time-like-this Harry. “I haven’t played in weeks.” Niall would never admit out loud that his golf game has suffered a little since the tour started, but he can’t deny to himself that it isn’t true.

He lets his fingers still touching Harry’s leg slide up and down the bare skin. Harry never bothered putting pants on that morning, and Niall isn’t exactly sure if he was supposed to notice this or not. But he did, he definitely did. And the longer Harry sits here with his hair a perfect mess and his legs a long tangle of smooth skin against the crumpled bed sheets, the more Niall’s pretty sure it isn’t just the rain that’s been driving him crazy all morning.

Beside him, Harry finally tosses his magazine aside and scoots further down the mattress, letting his leg fall against Niall.

To be honest, Niall’s never been exactly sure what he and Harry are. But the fact is, there’s a whole lot of bare skin brushing against him right now and Niall isn’t completely sure what he’s supposed to do about it. It never takes very much for Harry to make him nervous. For now Niall just continues tracing little patterns into his skin.

Harry’s head falls a little closer against Niall’s and he says, “We can go tomorrow. Don’t worry,” he grins at him. “Even with the tour and all, you can still whip my ass, and you know it.”

“Well that’s the god’s honest truth,” Niall laughs, pinching a bit of Harry’s flesh between his fingers.

“Hey!” Harry pouts, and Niall isn’t sure if it’s about his joke or the pinch. He lets his fingers slip away from Harry’s leg and brings his hands to instead fiddle nervously on his stomach. Like Harry’s pants, Niall hasn’t bothered with his hair today either, and now it sits like an unkempt mess on top of his head. A piece falls across his eyes and Harry reaches over to twist it around his finger. He’s grinning that lopsided grin that’s almost uncanny in the way it gets Niall weak in the knees. It isn’t fair, it shouldn’t be fair. But at the same time, Niall doesn’t think he really minds. He smiles back, wondering if that flush had always been on Harry’s cheeks, or if this was a new development.

He’s about to laugh – his go to defense mechanism when he’s feeling especially anxious – but it comes out more a breathy huff as Harry’s fingers are suddenly slipping from Niall’s hair and down to his chin. He’s angling him, and he’s done this before, and Niall knows what’s going to happen next. It doesn’t make things any easier for him. When Harry tilts forward; his eyes slipping closed and that distance between their lips growing smaller by the second, Niall is suddenly positive the blush is a new development.

He makes Harry work for it though. Keeping his lips still as Harry presses in closer, trying to peek his tongue out. A shiver to match the chill outside surges through Niall’s blood, and he reaches to cup Harry’s jaw. The kiss seems to last for ages, and when Harry pulls back, Niall’s eyes pop open. Harry’s face is only inches away, his lips glistening, the bottom one catching between his teeth.

The magazine is still clutched in Harry’s fist and Niall glimpses the headlines, blinking back the urge to grab Harry’s head in his hands, force their mouths back together and never let go. He’s never sure how to react after something like this, what the right response is. And even worse, if Harry is expecting him to do more. He’s never been good at this sort of thing.

He doesn’t blame Harry for furrowing his eyebrows a little when Niall nods at the magazine and says lightly, as if nothing just happened. “So. Who’s dating who, this time?”

Shifting back on to his pillow and letting a cool breeze fall into the now empty space between them, Harry giggles softly as he brings the magazine to his face. Sometimes Niall wishes he was better at reading this boy than he is. “Well,” Harry says, adopting a playful tone to set the new mood. “Apparently _you_ were caught talking to an airline attendant on our way to Paris, and now you two are most definitely an item.” He peeks over the top of the book and wiggles it in front of Niall’s face, making kissy noises.

“Oh, please.” Niall rolls his eyes cheerily, and he’s starting to feel his jumble of nerves unwinding again. Unconsciously, his tongue pokes out to lick the place where Harry just was.

Harry pouts at him, “I just have one question.” He bats his lashes a few times, “Is it true love?”

Niall laughs but it comes out like a stutter and he feels like slapping himself. Harry shouldn’t be able to do this to him. He squints back at him. He’s skimming the pages lazily again, but Niall can sense there’s still something sitting heavily between them. He just isn’t sure what. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Haz,” he says, deciding to play along. “I was at least going to wait until the honeymoon to say anything. Just in case it didn’t work out.”

With a grin so that his dimples are poking out, Harry reaches over and bops Niall on the nose. “You weren’t even going to invite me to the wedding? I’m hurt.”

“Well, you should be thanking me, really,” Niall disagrees, pretending the poke has his head rolling backwards. “I’m saving you the hassle of buying a tux.” The momentary distraction of turning back to the window is enough that Niall doesn’t process the mattress suddenly dipping, or the flail of limbs climbing over him until somehow he’s blinking back up at Harry, now straddling his waist.

Most of his hair is pushed back by the scarf wrapped around his forehead, but the few loose curls that fall in his face, paired with that look in his eyes, almost has Niall’s skin tingling. The kind of tingling that is sometimes described as butterflies in the stomach. Niall gets nervous, but he doesn’t usually get butterflies very much. Not _these_ butterflies. Harry butterflies.

Harry’s reaching down and he pokes Niall’s nose again, one dimple still holding its shape beside that half-crooked smile. “Hi,” he says.

Niall blinks back curiously and he has an urge to retaliate and press his own finger right into that silly, adorable dimple. But at the same time he isn’t exactly sure he can move right now. And it isn’t helping that he can hear Harry’s unsteady breathing even over the splashing of rain outside. “Hi?”

It’s not cliché with Niall. It never has been. He doesn’t look at Harry and think of roses, or long walks under the moon, or a new book smell. None of that cheesy (Louis’ words, not his) stuff he’s seen people use to describe someone else. And while he still might like his butterflies, it’s different.

Harry makes Niall feel like he’s going onstage. And like he’s never been onstage before. The fact that Niall could tumble, or miss a note. The fact that he could literally screw up at any second, for everyone to see. But there’s still that ringing of a thousand different screams, deafening and absolute, filling him up so that he might just float away. That’s Harry.

And it’s happening again. Niall can feel his skin starting to tingle, and somewhere in the distance he hears the drizzling of rain pounding the roof of their hotel. His smile falters just a little as he chances a tentative brush of his fingers over the smooth skin of Harry’s arm.

Shaking some hair from his face, Harry smiles; his eyes big and dancing unreadable over Niall’s face.

“What?” Niall says. He’s trapped beneath him, in between Harry’s thighs and he can’t help but think about the few times he’s imagined himself in just this space. Right between these legs. Groping and exploring. Usually, Harry’s on his back. Niall thinks he’d like to see his face.

“Hi,” Harry says again, but he’s not looking at Niall’s face anymore. He’s busy tracing his finger along the soft cotton of Niall’s t-shirt, making the skin beneath it even warmer.

Niall would be lying if he said he had any clue what was going on here. He’s going back to his safe, giddy defense. Smiling up at Harry and tickling the skin of his arm, he runs his fingers up and down as he says, “I’m bored.” But with the way his skin is jittering and buzzing beneath Harry’s weight, even that’s not true anymore. “I had this whole day planned out, and instead we’re stuck in here without even any decent movie channels.”

“Mm hmm,” Harry mumbles, nods. “There’s a computer in the lobby,” he adds, giving Niall a playful grin.

  
Pretending to shove Harry’s shoulder, Niall huffs, “Now you tell me!”

But he doesn’t even have a chance to catch his breath before Harry’s mouth is suddenly back on his, his bushel of hair spilling over his scarf and tickling Niall’s face. By the time Niall’s able to react at all, Harry’s hands are already slipping over his shoulders, and his mouth is opening and closing skillfully. Niall is so lightheaded he thinks he forgets to keep breathing.

Harry’s lips are warm and wet, just how they always are, and now Niall’s kissing back just as forcefully, his hands scrabbling at Harry’s back and pulling him even closer. His stomach stirs and with the smell of Harry, and his lips on Niall’s face, and his hair in Niall’s eyes. It’s too much and he’s about to pull back when Harry does it first.

Their mouths part and Harry leans up, breathing heavily through his mouth, his lips looking full and red. He swallows and Niall watches his throat work, feeling the stirring in his stomach move around and along his veins until his whole body feels on fire.

“What are we doing?” he finally asks when he finds his voice again.

It’s a couple seconds of lip chewing before Harry admits, “I don’t know.”

It’s funny, but Niall’s glad he’s still fully dressed because if he wasn’t, he’s sure he would be full out shaking. His eyes dance over Harry’s face, looking for something, searching.

Although it’s the source of most of his frustration, Niall’s never really been completely sure what Harry’s intentions are behind all their sporadic kissing. If they were just innocent between friends, or if they meant something else that Niall was never able to figure out. Or was just too nervous to try to. Then again, Harry’s never looked at him like this before.

Arching up and supporting himself with an elbow, Niall uses his free hand to grip the collar of Harry’s shirt. There’s heat al ready radiating off Harry’s chest and it melts the nervous chill spreading along Niall’s skin until he’s left feeling the first itches of a mingling of sweat along his hairline.

Harry on his waist, in his underwear. His legs on either side of him. Niall can already feel his cock starting to stir in his pants, and he’s let one too many chances slip away from his grasp before. He’s not letting Harry get away this time.

“C’mere,” he says, falling back into the pillow and dragging Harry down with him.

His tongue is slipping out the minute their mouths crash back together, and nimble fingers are grazing the sensitive skin at his sides, and Niall isn’t even sure whose limbs are whose anymore. All that matters is Harry’s lips against his and the fact that he isn’t planning on letting go.

They kiss so long that Niall’s almost dizzy by the time he finally pulls away for air. Somehow in the heat of things, they’ve managed to roll themselves completely over so that Niall’s upper body is hanging over Harry’s chest now. It’s now Harry who’s gotten trapped underneath him. Niall shivers as Harry’s fingers scratch lightly along his back and he realizes he’s lost his shirt.

Niall’s heart is racing so fast he’s sure Harry must be able to hear it. Harry’s hair is fanning out in a scattered array against the pillows. He’s still got his shirt on. With fingers he wishes weren’t this shaky, Niall fumbles for the top button, popping it open before moving down to the next. It isn’t long before Harry’s shirt is falling from his shoulders, and as Niall struggles to push it the rest of the way off, he leans down to attack the soft skin of Harry’s neck, pressing little kisses onto his collarbones.

He can feel Harry trying to jut up into him from below, and when Niall attempts to swing a leg over him, he feels it. Feels _it_. He pulls off Harry’s neck feeling fervent and prickly all over. When he glances down he can see the hard outline of Harry’s cock in his boxers and Niall feels his own erection thickening even more.

Fluttery breaths are coming from Harry’s mouth, warm air that’s hitting the side of Niall’s face. He looks down where Harry’s already staring up at him, eyes glossy and larger than Niall’s ever seen them. Harry leans up to capture his lips again and Niall feels his fingers circle around his wrist, pulling Niall’s hand down until his fingers are grazing the top of Harry’s erection.

Harry whines again and Niall feels the oddest sensation of both loosening up while simultaneously about to choke on his own breath. His fingers curl around the hard length of Harry’s cock, outlined beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. And now Niall’s stomach is twisting. They’ve never gotten this far before.

He’s seen Harry naked. He’s seen them all naked. Loads of times, actually. But it’s different. Well, maybe it’s not so different. But still, Niall’s never touched him before.

By now, his own cock is feeling heavy in his pants and he’s lucky he only decided on loose sweats today. Curiously, still testing the water, Niall strokes his fingers up a little higher, dipping the tips just beneath Harry’s waistband. Harry bucks up against him instantly. The skin there is so warm and soft and before Niall can go in any further, there’s a new set of fingers. These ones belong to Harry and this time they’re slipping into Niall’s pants instead.

A full-body shiver rakes along Niall’s spine, and for a moment they’re just a tangle of messy limbs, and heady touches, before Harry’s legs have once again found themselves on either side of Niall’s hips. Niall’s pants are suddenly halfway down his thighs.

His cock is hard and flushed, angling towards his stomach, and Harry is trying to buck up against him.

“Babe?” Niall asks, not exactly sure if he’s allowed to use that word or not. “Harry?” Niall can hear him whining with each jut of his hips, and his eyes are vulnerable, his smile tugging the corners of his mouth up. He rarely sees Harry look this nervous, and he can’t help feel a little excited that it’s him who's making Harry feel this way.

Niall’s hands slip back to the waistband of Harry’s underwear, and he watches Harry’s face for a reaction. Any reason he might need to stop. But Harry’s just staring back at him, smile still wide and fingers grazing Niall’s thigh. Slipping his boxers down Harry’s hips, Harry helps by lifting his bum and arranging his legs briefly to kick them the rest of the way off. When he places himself on either side of Niall again, Niall is sure his hands are shaking, and he’s having one hell of a time keeping his eyes from all the new skin on display.

Niall’s dick is starting to pulse in anticipation. Something is really happening right now.

He’s literally buzzing and itching with energy to the point that if he doesn’t start touching _something_ , he might explode. The skin around Harry’s inner thighs is pale and soft looking, and Niall couldn’t stop himself if he tried from reaching out and brushing his fingertips against it lightly. He wants to touch every part of Harry he can.

“Niiiiall....” Harry breathes loudly the moment Niall makes contact, and Niall is almost inclined to call it a moan.

Harry’s cock is flushed and hard against his belly. And it doesn’t matter where Niall looks, he can just see it. Not to mention he’s fully aware of how hard his own cock is and how it’s starting to strain from the pressure of needing to be touched, to be doing something. His fingers trail up from Harry’s thighs now and to his hipbones, pushing into his skin there as he glances up at Harry’s face. His head has fallen back into the pillows but his eyes are still open, staring back and upside down at the headboard. Niall wraps a hand around Harry’s cock, eyes growing momentarily wide at the feeling of how thick it feels in his hand, and he strokes it once. He doesn’t even know if he’s entirely sure what Harry wants yet.

And as if he’s reading his mind, Harry lets out a moan, arching his back just a tad as Niall thumbs along the underside. With something that Niall is definitely giving himself permission to call a moan, Harry says, “Niallll…”

But that’s all. And Niall starts to wonder if they’re going too far. He’s thought about this moment many times, and he doesn’t want either of them to regret it later. He doesn’t want it unless he’s sure Harry wants it too.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks nervously, not releasing his grip on Harry’s dick, but not moving it either.

Immediately, Harry arches again, letting out a shaky breath. “N-no!” He angles his head so that he can look back at Niall’s face, his eyes wide and beseeching. “Don’t stop.” But there’s something else behind those eyes too. It takes a moment before Niall realizes it’s the same look of concentration he couldn't put his finger on earlier. Like Harry’s thinking about something.

“What?” Niall asks, and at the moment he has a fairly decent idea of what might be going through Harry’s head. He’s sure Louis or Zayn will call him an idiot later for not realizing sooner.

But Niall doesn’t want to be thinking of Louis or Zayn right now. Or anyone else for that matter. Only the boy right here beneath him. Niall leans forward, his palms slipping along Harry’s milky skin, until he can once again sink his lips against Harry’s. When he pulls off a minute later, he flicks a pile of damp hair from Harry’s forehead and smiles, “What? Tell me.”

His heart is still beating unnaturally fast, but the rush streaming through his veins is almost numbing, and his cock is getting heavier by the second.

He can tell Harry’s struggling with something. His breath coming fast, and his eyes are darting around Niall’s face like he’s nervous.

“I,” he finally says a little breathlessly. “I want…”

Niall gives him a minute to finish, wants to hear it pass through those lips before he gives it to him. Because if Harry asks for it, if he tells Niall, then Niall knows Harry really wants this just as much as he does.

Harry sighs, managing a small smile. In barely a whisper he says, “I want. You…”

Niall grins wider, pressing another quick kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I’m right here, babe.” He’s still not sure about that word, but he’s almost positive Harry just batted his eyes a little.

He can feel Harry wiggling beneath him, the same nervous energy that’s running so fast through Niall that he feels like he could probably run a marathon is only seconds flat. Without warning, Harry takes Niall’s hand in one of his own. He opens his mouth and Niall watches curiously as Harry sticks one of Niall’s fingers inside. It’s wet and warm, and Niall swallows thickly as he watches with unblinking eyes. The swirling of his tongue around and around Niall’s finger, getting it sloppily wet.

Harry pulls it back out slowly, never taking his eyes off Niall’s as he brings his wet finger down between their bodies until Niall can feel the heat from between Harry’s legs. Harry presses his finger against something, and Niall’s pretty sure he knows what, and his swallow is lost somewhere in the back of his throat. Harry says, “I want you _there_.”

The blood is thumping in his cock and Niall’s finger is prodding the skin around Harry’s hole almost involuntarily. There. _There_. He wants him there.

Niall hasn’t even opened his mouth but already Harry is nodding to the question that must have been written a little too clearly on his face. “I’m sure. I really want it, Niall. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Please?” And he’s sort of rambling, and Niall can’t help but smile. Somehow, the idea that Harry is just as unsure as he is, is helping Niall calm down a bit.

“So how do we do this?” Niall ask, his eyes darting around Harry’s naked body, and skin almost crawling with the anticipation of being inside him.

With hands shaking so that even Niall can tell, Harry reaches over and fumbles quickly with the bedside table’s drawer, pulling out a small tube. Niall watches in astonishment. Harry really is ready for this.

Harry thrusts the lube into Niall’s hands, bringing his legs up and bending at the knees. They fall open even more; giving Niall all the room he needs to work, and Niall’s eyes are transfixed at all the exposed parts of Harry.

“Your fingers first,” Harry mumbles, and Niall remembers that his drying finger is still tickling along the soft skin of Harry’s ass.

“My fingers…?” Niall doesn’t want to sound completely clueless but he also doesn’t want to do something wrong, and he’s not sure he knows exactly what he’s supposed to do here.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, and his thighs are already beginning to shake. “Lube, on your fingers. Use them to,” he swallows, blinking fluttery lashes back at Niall from the head of the bed. “You know… Stretch.”

Stretch. Harry wants Niall to stretch him. God. Almost involuntarily, Niall’s eyes are back and staring at the hole in Harry’s ass, where he’s about to attempt to insert himself. He's a bit worried about it hurting Harry.

He sighs; the sound coming out a lot more flustered than he’d meant it to. Like a nervous schoolboy. That’s exactly what he feels like. And with Harry looking at him like that, it’s almost impossible for Niall to get his fingers to calm down enough to even get the cap off the lube. He manages somehow, but his eyes are going back and forth to Harry’s trembling knees. “You’re shaking.”

“Nuh uh,” Harry assures, wrapping his fingers tightly around his knees to keep them still. But Niall can still see them wobbling.

Niall’s dick is throbbing hard and he swallows as he starts scooting closer to the space between Harry’s legs. He pours a messy handful of liquid into his palm and starts to coat his fingers thickly. Really, he has no idea what the hell he’s even doing, or how much is enough or anything like that. But he figures more is probably better.

When he looks back at Harry, he’s got his eyes closed and now he’s gripping his legs so tight that his knuckles are turning white. Niall frowns, reaching his clean hand to rub soothing circles around Harry’s skin. “Hey. You ok?”

And Harry lets out a breath, loosens up then. He blinks back at Niall, his face red. But he’s smiling. “Yeah. Just nervous.”

Niall keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s as he reaches his hand down into the warmth of Harry’s ass, tracing along until his finger dips. He can feel Harry start to clench before he’s even gone in. “You ever done this before?” he asks, hoping if he can distract Harry from the initial pain, it’ll make things easier.

With sweaty curls sticking to his face and neck, Harry nods a couple times, his eyes falling closed again as Niall prods the tender skin. His finger starts pressing in and Niall’s face screws up briefly at the feeling. It’s tight but he can feel Harry pushing, trying to force his body to let Niall in. Niall watches his head hit the pillow. “When?” he asks. But he knows Harry’s only talking about fingers, because Harry tells him everything, and Niall would know if this wasn’t his first time.

“Just to myself a few times,” Harry chokes as Niall presses his finger in deeper. “It just hurts at first.” He moans deeper. His toes curl against the mattress before he suddenly hisses, “Faster.”

Niall isn’t really expecting that. He thought if anything, Harry was going to want him to go slower. His finger is stuck halfway inside, and he wiggles it carefully, raising an eyebrow. “Faster?”

Harry nods and Niall can feel him tightening around his finger, little gasps hitching out of his throat. “It’s easier,” he says, breathlessly.

Niall isn’t going to fight him on that – obviously, no one can tell Harry what he wants better than himself. Instead, Niall puts a little more force into it, watching in silent fascination as his finger slips all the way inside.

The intakes of breath are getting sharper, but Harry isn’t telling Niall to stop. And the way his back is arching off the bed is sending goose bumps along Niall’s otherwise overly-heated flesh. And this clenching thing. God the clenching. Niall’s dick is almost throbbing. “How’s that feel?”

Harry’s hair is even messier against his pillow as he squeezes his eyes shut, nodding despite the look of tight pain on his face. Even from here, and even though his cock is throbbing from the need of stimulation, Niall can’t ignore that look on Harry’s face. He brings up his free hand and rubs it along Harry’s trembling thigh. “Does it hurt?”

“Nnn—o,” Harry shakes his head, gritting his teeth but otherwise relaxing his features. Flustered and incredibly hot, Niall licks his lips and keeps moving, trying to wiggle it again. “It’s ok,” Harry tells him, starting to twitch his hips some. It causes Niall’s finger to sink in some more but it has the added effect of making Niall even more turned on. “Keep going,” Harry pleads. “It’s just a lot of pressure. But It’s good. I-I like it.”

Niall’s getting momentarily lost in the feeling of Harry adjusting around him, when Harry also adds, “You can do another.”

“Fast?” Niall brings up a second finger, gently pressing near the first.

Harry grunts, falling back into the pillows, “Maybe a little slower,” he decides. Niall grips onto Harry’s wobbly knee, keeping it in place as he slips another finger inside. Almost immediately, a soft groan escapes Harry’s lips, but Niall isn’t even able to process if it’s a good sound or not because his eyes are already flying to the back of his head from the tightness. “G-good?” he asks. “You okay?”

“Mmmnnngg hmmm,” Harry mumbles, arching his back again, but Niall can still feel him trying to force himself open. It’s an incredibly strange experience to Niall and he can only imagine what it must be like for Harry. A bit curious and anxious to experiment; since his finger has never been inside another human before; at least not from this angle, Niall wiggles them both carefully, hoping to help stretch Harry open a little faster. The moan that spills from Harry this time is quite a bit louder than before, and besides being almost music to Niall’s ears, it also sounds only half as in pain this time. “Should I do another one?” Niall asks, not entirely sure how much he’s supposed to stretch Harry or if half of that will come from Niall’s dick inside him.

“One more,” Harry agrees. And Niall barely even begins to push it in before Harry is already making noises low in his throat. “It’s good, it’s okay. Yes, it’s good,” he mumbles, but Niall isn’t sure if the words are meant more for him or for Harry.

Harry’s head is pushing into his pillow and even Niall tosses his back some. “It’s tight…” he hisses, trying to gently spread his fingers. “Wow…”

His cock is almost leaking now, and if he wants to get a chance to get inside, actually really get inside, he’s going to have to do it before it’s too late. Carefully, he pulls his fingers back out. As Harry lets out a long, deep breath, Niall wishes he could do this one at a time so the loss of pressure isn’t so significant. But it’s much easier to sink one finger in at a time, than it is taking one out at a time.

Once his fingers are out, Niall can see Harry’s chest rising and falling deeply. “You ready?” Niall asks him, reaching for the abandoned lube and coating his dick generously. “How do you feel? Okay?”

Despite his flushed face, Harry’s eyes are wide and open, and when he glances back at him, Niall can read the eagerness even from here. “I’m ready.”

Niall inches closer, one hand on his cock as he uses the other to push up one of Harry’s legs. It drapes awkwardly over his shoulder. But it helps lift Harry’s bum up some from the mattress, giving Niall a better angle to work.

Leaning up, he tilts himself forward until his cock is right at the skin of Harry’s entrance. He can see and feel Harry starting to clench again, so Niall squeezes his hand around Harry’s leg and begins to thrust himself inside. He sinks in a bit easier than he originally thought he would. And it feels amazing. It feels so good. Harry is tight around him, giving Niall that friction he desperately needs. His own breath is coming out in random huffs to match Harry’s, and he’s gripping Harry’s leg so tight, he can see the flesh turning white beneath his fingers. He’s almost lightheaded from just the sheer resistance of having Harry around him. “This feels so good…” he hisses, his head spinning.

“M-me too,” Harry grunts quickly, but Niall isn’t sure if he’s being completely truthful or more trying to convince himself.

“Does it still hurt?” Niall asks gently, sliding the last inch until his entire cock is buried inside.

The heat around him is impossibly tight, and he’s watching Harry scrabble for the sheets, clutching them in his hands securely. “It’s a lot,” Harry sighs. “But it’s good. It feels good. I love you inside me.” Niall swears his pulse quickens even more at those words. “Much better than my fingers.”

Niall grins, he likes being inside him too. And he might be inclined to just stay right here if it weren’t for the fact that his cock is practically aching with the need to thrust. “I’m gonna start moving again,” he says, hoping that by digging his fingers even rougher into Harry’s leg that he might be able focus on that instead of just his ass being stretched so wide.

But Niall can feel him struggling to stay still. His hands let go of the sheets and instead wrap themselves around Niall’s waist, almost as tightly as he’s squeezing into Harry’s leg. Niall gasps a little as Harry nods, “M-kayy…”

With nothing short of fascination, Niall watches. It’s amazing how hot Harry looks all open and needy and just completely giving himself to Niall, like this. Pulling his cock out, Niall drags it back slowly, losing himself in the tight heat, until just the head is still buried inside. He barely remembers to give Harry time to adjust before he’s plunging back in, a little more force this time around.

As he sinks in, Niall’s hand slips on Harry’s thigh causing him to momentarily off his balance. He fixes himself quickly, but not before the angle shifts and suddenly Harry’s crying out in a completely different way. A way that is sending a million buzzing tingles along Niall’s skin. He watches Harry curl; his toes, his fingers, his back. And he’s squeezing and loosening simultaneously around Niall’s cock. It’s the best reaction Niall’s gotten from him so far.

“Do that again!” Harry squeaks, running feverish fingers along Niall’s spine.

Dragging his cock back out, Niall isn’t even sure he knows exactly what it is he did in the first place. He chokes on a breath, “Do..?”

“That spot!” Harry bumps his bum back and Niall has a pleasant twisting feeling Harry’s trying to sink himself even more onto him. “Try to hit that spot again.”

Except Niall still isn’t completely sure he even knows what he’s doing, and he doesn’t even know if he hit an actual ‘spot’ as Harry called it, or if it’s just the way his dick had slipped in (by accident, although he isn’t planning on telling Harry that). But he tries it again. He definitely wants to make Harry happy. And whatever happened when he hit that spot, had definitely done the trick.

Tilting his hips as they were before, Niall shoves back in, trying to find the same angle that had Harry squirming so wonderfully beneath him. The first attempt proves to be a bit unsuccessful, although Harry’s still moaning loudly. But he isn’t making that sound again. It was a very specific sound. A sound Niall wants to hear again, and again, and again...

Not about to let himself get discouraged, Niall pushes back in harder, shifting his hips again. This time he knows he finds his mark. Harry practically thrashes around, his nails digging white lines across the skin of Niall’s back. His head tilts so far back that all Niall can see is the thick line of his throat.

“Ni- Niall,” Harry mumbles, twisting and panting in a way that’s making Niall almost dizzy.

There’s a tightening in his stomach, growing stronger with each shove, and Niall knows he isn’t going to last much longer. Not with Harry constantly squeezing around him like he is, that’s for sure. “Feels okay, yah?” As response, Harry bucks against him and it’s a good enough answer for Niall.

When he sinks back in, determined to hit that spot inside Harry that’s making him twitch and whine so lovely, his stomach knots even more. “I’m getting close,” he tells him.

Another wordless answer as Harry just nods again, and Niall thinks (hopes) he’s maybe so lost at this point that he’s not even listening. Niall manages one more good shove inside before his eyes flutter closed and he’s spilling deep inside Harry.

It’s the most intense orgasm Niall’s ever had, and he almost loses his balance from the shudder that courses throughout his entire body. He swears it’s so strong that it must have vibrated through his dick and into Harry himself. Even though Harry’s still tight around him, Niall’s going limp now and he slips out easily.

The high of his orgasm is still going strong, and he reaches for Harry’s hard and flushed cock; leaking against his stomach. Gripping the base, Niall thumbs along the underside, bringing his hand up and back down as he tries to finish Harry off. It only takes a few more quick pumps before Harry suddenly stills and comes over his own stomach.

It doesn’t take very long, and Niall pumps him through it. When he feels Harry’s dick go soft in his hand, he lets him go before falling down on the bed beside him. Little streaks of white are glistening Harry’s chest, so Niall reaches over for the box of tissues on their nightstand. Pulling one out, he dabs at Harry’s slicked skin while Harry let’s his shaky legs finally relax and fall ungracefully on the bed.

Propping himself up with a hand to his head, Niall blinks, feeling about as spent as Harry looks.

He reaches over to brush away the sweaty hair sticking to Harry’s forehead, and Harry smiles at him sleepily, scooting closer until he‘s fitted himself right beside Niall, their warm bodies touching.

“You okay?” Niall asks, draping his hand over Harry’s shoulder almost protectively. Their noses are practically touching. Harry blinks at him and Niall isn’t sure he’s ever looked so unbelievably adorable.

“Better than.” Harry decides shifting even closer and reaching for the blanket at the foot of the bed. “Dunno if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow or not, though…”

With a happy sigh, Niall leans in to give Harry a little peck on his nose. He’s almost positive he’s never looked this unbelievably adorable. “Then I guess we’ll just have to stay in bed all day again. Won’t we?”

**Author's Note:**

> This might become a mini series. I'm kind of into it. Hope you enjoyed!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and constructive criticism always helps too!


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